


The Week She Went to England

by carolinenite



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, One Shot, SUCH FLUFF, used to be a one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-09 04:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13474158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinenite/pseuds/carolinenite
Summary: Mackenzie needs to go to England for several days to see her family... can Will actually survive without her?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilacmermaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacmermaid/gifts).



> Q: What happens when you've got two chapters left (and mostly outlined) for 'Something There'?  
> A: Develop a horrifying block and beg lilacmermaid for a prompt to take your mind off the story that is hanging over your head!  
> Result: What I leave here for your perusal.
> 
> Don't mistake this for anything other than what it claims to be: pure, unadulterated fluff.
> 
> But, man, did I enjoy writing it!

Today, the whole week, really, had been a total goat rope.  With less than forty minutes until he was done with the Thursday show, Will was tempted to pull his IFB and let Terry in Washington deal with the fallout of half an hour of dead air.  Just before he had thrown in the towel, Jim had called a commercial break, and Will had tried to take a deep breath.

“Any word on the fucking traffic?”

“She should be here any minute, Will,” Jim said, patiently confirming Mackenzie’s impending arrival for the fourth time in twenty minutes.

“You’ve been saying that for an hour.”

“45 seconds back,” Herb interrupted.

Will shut his eyes for a moment and reflected on how he had gotten to this point in his week.  On Saturday, Will had escorted Mackenzie to the airport and sent her off to England for a week to say a proper goodbye to her grandmother, who was in failing health.  He had promised her that they could handle three shows without her; she planned to return early on Thursday.

“Three shows,” he had said with a rakish shrug.  “You trained them well, and while it won’t be Peabody award-winning, the building will still be standing when you get home.”  He was no longer so certain about that assertion.

On Monday, Jim had sliced his finger open in the ACN kitchen and had spent the better part of the evening the ER getting stitches.  Between Kendra stepping up to the headset and Don doing what he could, the show passed without major incident.  The tone for the week had been set, though. 

On Tuesday, Will decided that Mackenzie was never leaving his newsroom again: somehow, the Bigfoot story had stayed on the board well into the 4 pm rundown.  It wasn’t until he had cleared his throat been very clear that he had no intention of being the managing editor of a show that produced stories about Bigfoot that Jim had blanched and pulled it from the board.

“I didn’t even realize it was still up there.”

Will had spent the next two hours going over the rundown and the script with a fine-tooth comb, just in case there was anything else Jim didn’t realize.  Almost worse, in Will’s mind, he had missed Mackenzie’s call and had been unable to connect with her at all.  By 6 pm, the staff were diving under desks and hiding in conference rooms to get away from Will’s barking growl. 

On Wednesday, Reese had decided that throwing up a Twitter scroll on the bottom of News Night’s screen was again a hill upon which he wanted to die, and it had taken Will and Charlie the better part of two, very loud hours to bring him back around to the side of journalistic integrity.

“Mackenzie could have done that in about half the time,” Reese had remarked as he exited Charlie’s office.

Thursday dawned, and Will was tempted not to go into the office until Mackenzie’s plane landed just after noon, but at 9 am, his phone had rung; he had been in the shower and missed the call.

“Hi, honey.  It’s me.  Look, I know it’s been a tough week, at least that’s what Jim’s said.  So, I want you to try and keep your sense of humor about this.  Okay?  My flight’s been delayed and diverted, so I’m not landing until just after 5 pm.  It’s going to be fine.  I’ll get a car right from the airport and be there before air.”  There was a pause in the voicemail and some crackling.  “Oh gosh, I’ve got to go.  They’re putting us on a bus to take us to a different terminal.  I love you, Billy.  Keep your head up, alright?  Everyone is working for the same things you are.”

Will tossed his phone at the bed, harder than he intended; it bounced off the mattress and hit the floor with a sickening thud.  Muttering every level three curse he could call to mind, Will rounded the bed to retrieve his phone; the screen was fully shattered.  He knew, logically, that there were no level four swears, but in that moment, Will invented a few that he felt sure qualified as something more than a three.  The useless phone in a zip-top pouch in his pocket, Will headed for the office.

“Good morning!”  Jenna approached her boss with a bright smile, blissfully unaware of the ticking time-bomb that was currently Will McAvoy.

“And what the actual fuck is good about it?”  Jenna stopped short.  She hadn’t seen Will this tense since just after she’d been hired.  Will took in her affronted expression and stopped.  “Shit.  I’m sorry, Jenna.  Mackenzie’s flight’s been delayed, and my phone took a header off the bed, and in general, I’m just ready for my fiancé to be back in town.”  He held out the zip-top to her.  “Good morning,” he offered, quietly.  Jenna reached out and took the bag and offending phone from him, turning it over carefully and examining it.  She held out her other hand to Will.  “What?”

“Give me your credit card.”  Will did as he was told without thought.  Jenna turned to leave the bullpen, stopping just before she was out of earshot.  “The notes for the B block interview are on your desk, including the profile of the guest.”  Will nodded and turned toward his office.  “Under the file for next week, Will.  Under.”

“Got it.  Under.”  He took another step before turning back to Jenna, who was walking away.  “Jenna!”  She turned back.  “What the hell did you want my credit card for?”

“I’m getting your phone fixed,” she spoke slowly as if Will was a small child.

“Oh.  Thanks.”  He turned back to his office.  As the door was closing behind him, he heard one of the staffers, he couldn’t tell exactly who speak.

“He’s a train-wreck without Mackenzie.”

Well, that was the understatement of the century.  Will tossed his sweater onto a chair and pulled a file from the top of his desk.  Within an hour, he’d committed the profile to memory and felt prepared for the interview.  He paced his office for a while, wondering when someone would come get him for the rundown meeting.  Another twenty minutes passed before Will was fed up enough to leave his office in search of productivity.  The bullpen was mostly empty; the staff was in the conference room.  Will strode purposefully toward the door.

“No one thought to get the managing editor for the rundown meeting?  Christ, it’s like professionalism’s taken a holiday.”

“We thought we’d get a firmer grasp on tonight’s rundown before we came to bother you,” Tamara offered.

“You’re a little scary right now,” Martin added.

Jim crossed the conference room and walked Will out.

“Look, I know you’re freaking out.  Don’t think that you’re the only one who wanted to go with her.  It can’t have been an easy trip, but taking your helplessness out on the staff isn’t going to make anyone better at their job, and it’s sure as shit not going to make it any better for Mac.  Alright?”

“Have you been hanging out with Habib?”  Jim offered a wry smile to Will’s quip.  “I’m sorry.  Tell them I’m sorry.”  He turned toward his office.

“Where ya going?  Shouldn’t the managing editor be in the rundown meeting?”

“Thanks, Jim.  Really.  I’m going to hit the gym, see if I can shake this off.  You guys have it in hand.  I’ll do the two.  Okay?”

“She’ll be home soon.”  Will snorted at Jim’s reassurance.

“Not as soon as you think.  Something went haywire with her flights, and she won’t land until after five.  You should probably be prepared to take the headset, just in case.”

Jim nodded and turned back to the conference room, and Will snagged his gym bag from his office before heading upstairs.  Forty-five minutes into a punishing workout, Charlie appeared in the gym, glass of bourbon in hand.  Will stopped and offered him a suspicious look.

“One of the interns called upstairs.  They’re afraid you’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”

“I’m fine.”

“You look fine.  Definitely.”  Charlie nodded with mock sincerity.  “Why do you get cleaned up, and we’ll have lunch.  It’ll help you kill a few hours while you’re waiting.”

“Jesus, does everyone know?”

“Son, you’ve haven’t been this nice of a guy since the day before she came back, and I’m including the time you brought her ex-boyfriend into the newsroom to torture her.”  Will cast his eyes down.  “You’ll be alright.  Meet me in my office in twenty minutes.”

 

Lunch and the rest of the afternoon had crawled by, each minute seeming to drag longer than the last.  He needed to see her, needed to know that she was alright and that this week hadn’t taken too much of a toll on her.  At some point, Jenna had returned with his phone, and he had thanked her with genuine goodwill.  Within thirty seconds of Mackenzie’s plane touching down, Will’s phone had rung.

“Landed!”

“Thank god.  I’ve forgotten how to do this without you.”

“It’s the news, Billy.  It’s in your DNA.  You just do it.”

“You’ll be here by air?”

“I have to get my bag and clear customs, and then I’m all yours.”

“Good.”  He paused and looked around to make sure he had some semblance of privacy.  “I missed you like crazy.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Be safe, and I’ll see you soon.  I love you, Mac.”  He heard the gruffness in his voice and couldn’t do anything to stop it.  The sense of relief at her safe return was palpable.

“Forever, Billy.”

 

With twenty minutes to air, Mackenzie was stuck in a cab in the midtown tunnel, and Jim had been on the phone with her off and on, getting her up to speed, just in case she made it.  Will had stopped calling when Mackenzie threatened to skip right over the studio and go straight home—she would be there when she got there.

And now, Will was coming back from another commercial break, and Mackenzie was still not in his ear.  He was prepared for this next segment, though.  He had fully memorized all of the paperwork that Jenna left on his desk about this guest, and he was fully prepped to talk about climate change for seven minutes, eight if Jim felt it needed to be stretched because the bottom of the show was feeling light.  The red light came on, and Will went to the prompter.

“Welcome back.  We have, joining us in the studio, tonight Fr. Michael Valenzuela from the League of Catholic voters to discuss the latest Supreme Court ruling and its effect on the Christian electorate.”  Will was well and truly fucked.  “Which means that tomorrow night we will be discussing climate change.”

It wasn’t good, and he knew it, but he had to let the control room know that he didn’t have the faintest clue what was happening in front of him.

“Tap your pen if you weren’t expecting that guest,” Jim said, panic rising in his voice.  Will tapped his pen, staring into the camera with absolute disdain.  Will continued to read the intro on the teleprompter, carefully enunciating each word and trying to buy them all an extra few seconds.  “Fuck.”  Will tapped his pen again.  Jim laughed, in spite of himself; only Will McAvoy express so much with the tap of a pen.  Now finished with the prepared intro, Will dove headfirst into the interview, praying that they would be able to find a graphic or something else to put on the prompter.

“So, father, tell me what this verdict means to the roughly 70 million Catholics living in the United States.”

“Well, Will, I have to say that I don’t think that this issue is limited only to Catholics.  I think that all of this country’s Christians have a right to raise up against this ruling, and frankly, I’m appalled that you would pigeonhole an issue as important as this.”

Well, that came off the rails quickly.

“I apologize, my intent was not to trivialize the issue, rather to inquire about the actual effect of the ruling on Catholics.”  He could gleefully have kicked himself.  At the suggestion, again, that the issue affected only Catholics, the good father grew even redder in the face.  “Christians, I meant.  How the ruling affects Christians.”

The priest began to unload a theological tirade that Will ordinarily would have cut off instantly, but they needed to fill the time.  Thirty long seconds in, Will was starting to lose the thread of the priest’s argument and had already begun to take apart the theology behind it.

“You know what, Billy?”  Her voice flowed into his ears, a balm to his aching heart.  His eyes jumped to the camera, knowing that she would see him staring into her.  “You’re right.  You can’t do this without me.”  Will tapped his pen again.  What a bullshit form of communication.  “Dump out of it.”  His eyes, staring into the camera, and his eyebrows, raised almost to his hairline, conveyed the questions he couldn’t verbalize.  “We’ll fill it with Bigfoot if we have to.  Get this imbecile off our air.”

Our air.  Will felt all of the jagged edges of himself start to recede.

“I’ll have to cut you off there.  We’ll be back after this break.  This is News Night on ACN.”

“Clear,” Herb’s voice rang in his ear.

“Really felt the need to put the network’s name out there, huh?”  She laughed lightly in his ear.

“If I have to suffer the soul-sucking agony of being broadcast with the ACN logo next to that joker,” Will said, gesturing to the still-sputtering clergyman next to him, “then they have to hear their name right next to the show.”  Mackenzie laughed again, and it was music to his ears.  “Welcome home.”

“Shut up,” she chided with love.  “I’m trying to salvage what’s left of this broadcast.”  Will’s mouth snapped shut, and he grinned widely.  It didn’t matter what she said; she was in his ear, where she belonged.  After another minute of silence, her voice rang through the IFB again.  “Just us for a second, Billy.  I’ve switched you off.”  His eyes locked on the camera lens.  “I know you’ve had a hard week.  When we get home, it’s your call.  Anything you need.  Okay?”

It took Will less than a second to respond.

“Anything?”  The mischief in his eyes and absolute chicanery in his voice threw Mackenzie off balance.

“Anything,” she said, with slightly less conviction.

“It is Thursday, you know.”

“God, Billy, really?  Anything but that.”

“You said anything, Mac,” he tried for petulance.

“15 seconds,” Herb interjected into the private loop.

“Okay, Billy.”  The capitulation was evident in her voice.

 

By some miracle, they wrapped up the show, filling their entire broadcast window.  By the time they were clear and the studio lights had been switched off, there was a messenger waiting for Will.

“They need to see you on the 44th floor, sir,” the intern said.  At the look on Will’s face, the intern took two steps back.  “Before you go home,” she said, finishing her message, turning and fleeing.

Mac came around the corner and stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

“They want me upstairs.”  She frowned.  “I’m sorry, hon.”

“I’m gonna get home, Billy,” she said, mild entreaty in the statement.  “I would give anything for a hot shower.”  Will nodded and kissed her lightly.

“Of course.  I’ll see you there.”

 

An hour later, Will stepped off the elevator at home, fuming.  All of the bullshit that Leona had just spewed at him would have easily waited until tomorrow.  The sound of a roaring crowd froze him in his tracks.

“Billy?”  Mackenzie’s voice rang out.  “I’m in the kitchen.”

As he came into the living room, he stopped short.  It took him several breaths to digest the scene in front of him.  Their TV, formerly a respectable 40” screen had been replaced by something absolutely giant, 80” if he had to guess.  On the immense screen was the Jets game, just about to kick off, a full two hours after schedule.  A tray of wings, complete with celery and dip, a massive pizza, loaded to the gills with every meat he could imagine, and Mackenzie, coming out of the kitchen with a tray of nachos, wearing his Jets jersey and leggings.  Her hair was pulled up on top of her head, and she was barefoot.  Will’s heart nearly stopped at the sight of her.

“Is that DVRed?”  It was inane, but it was the only thing he could verbalize in that moment.  She shook her head with delight.

“Rain delay.”  She set the nachos on the coffee table, nudging some of the other food out of the way.  “Happy non-Super Bowl, Billy.”

Will swept his fiancé into his arms and kissed her passionately.  When they finally broke apart, Mackenzie was breathless.  She touched her lips with two fingers.

“I’m leaving the country more often.”

“No fucking way.”  He looked around again, taking in the scene she had orchestrated for him, noticing for the first time an iced cooler filled with beer.  “You arranged for Leona to call me upstairs.”  She nodded.  “You know that when you said ‘anything’, I just meant I wanted to watch the game with you tucked up beside me, right?”  She nodded again, knowing smile creeping across her lips.

“But I wanted it to be better than any old night.  So, I gave Neal and Tess your credit card with instructions to get a new TV and the beer.  You’d be amazed what Warren 77 will whip up and deliver for the right price, too.”

“Do you have any idea how much food we have here?”

“The staff is very excited by how much food we have here.  Not one of them is planning to bring a lunch tomorrow.”

“What do you say when ‘I love you’ just doesn’t cover it?”  Mackenzie took his hand and led him to the couch, giving him a gentle shove onto it.  She pulled two beers from the cooler, popped the caps off of both, and handed one to him before curling up beside him.

“Don’t say anything.  Watch your football.”

 

 


	2. Post Script

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, it was brought to my attention by lilacmermaid that I left it pretty open-ended on the fate of Mac's grandmother. And so, here's the baby-sized, little, tiny epilogue to deal with that! (Seriously, this note might be longer than the PS!) But, I'm sorry to have left y'all hanging like that!

It was later, much later, that Will had finally had the presence of mind to wonder about the remainder of Mackenzie’s trip and the status of her grandmother.  _If something significant had happened, she would have brought it up.  Right?_   Mac was sleeping in his arms, though, fully exhausted from Will driving her to complete release over and over before finding his own climax deep inside of her after the conclusion of the game.  The absolute least that he could do for Mackenzie, after her fantasy-fulfilling football festivity, was to make sure that she ended her night feeling as incredibly loved as he had felt upon entering the apartment.  So, his fiancé was sleeping, and he had no new information.  Will shut his eyes and tried to sleep.

Several hours later, Mackenzie stirred; wakefulness played at the edges of her consciousness.  The feeling of Will moving, shifting the chest upon which she rested, brought her up from the depths of sleep.

“Mmm, alright, Billy?”  Her eyes were still closed; she wasn’t ready to greet the day yet.

“How’s GaGa?” he asked the question tentatively and furrowed his brow at the sound of Mackenzie’s husky chuckle.

“She’s rallied again.”  Sleep tinged Mac’s voice.  “At this rate, she may just outlive us all.”

“Is she still in the hospital?”  Will’s question followed immediately on the heels of Mac’s words, but she had dozed off again.  Will tugged on her earlobe twice before she acknowledged him again.

“Hmmm?”

“Is she still in the hospital?”

“No, they sent her home.  Much to her companion’s relief.  That woman hates sleeping by a hospital bed.”  Mackenzie yawned, sliding toward sleep again.  “GaGa says she wants to meet her great-grandchildren before she opens the door to the next life.”  Her voice trailed off, and Will let his eyes drift closed with a smile, satisfied for now.  “Stubborn as hell, that one.”

Mackenzie rolled half over and pressed herself closer into Will, completely asleep again.  He chuckled.

“It seems to be a family trait,” he teased the sleeping woman on his chest before tightening his arms around her and joining her in slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, in a story of pure fluff, there wasn't a way to go except toward the happy side of that resolution!

**Author's Note:**

> I really think all of you who keep coming back to read my work are some of the most wonderful people in the world. Thank you SO much. 
> 
> And, of course, I would LOVE to hear from you!


End file.
